Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 92070 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 460(@200wpm)___ 368(@250wpm)___ 307(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92070 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 460(@200wpm)___ 368(@250wpm)___ 307(@300wpm)
I can see that.
"And then I started to imagine it. This scene." Her blush deepens. "I find some way to make it my choice. Like Beauty and the Beast, right? People always say it's about Stockholm Syndrome, but Belle volunteers to take her father's place. She chooses her fate."
I love that she defends Disney as passionately as she defends Billy Wilder. I love her big, beautiful brain. "What did you decide?"
"Something like that. I volunteer as a bargaining chip to save my sister's life. She has gambling debts."
"Sounds like her."
"Yeah," she says. "And I do it knowing what I'm getting into. I do it with some small amount of control."
"What about the mob boss? Why does he agree?"
"He's not an evil guy," she says. "Sometimes, he's lonely. Sometimes, he's stuck the same way—he has to accept because of pressure from his family. Sometimes, he's playing his own game. He wants to toy with me."
"Smart guy."
She squeezes my hand. "I think about that one a lot. It's a game to him, to win me over. I come into the room in sheer white lingerie, this vision of purity, and he looks at me with wonder. Then he tells me to strip and I lose the robe. He says come here and invites me into his lap. I sit. He asks if I know what he expects. I say I do. He asks if I want that. I say it doesn't matter. But it matters to him. He wants to know if I find him handsome, if I want him. I try to hold out, to resist him, but he knows. He tells me he's going to toy with me, to see how much I want him, and he does. He puts me in front of the mirror so I can watch, so I have to watch his hands on my breasts, or between my thighs. And when I'm wet, he whispers, don't think this means I'll fuck you. Not yet."
"Fuck, Val."
"Is it too weird?"
"No," I say.
"It's fucked up."
"So?" I squeeze her hand. "It's a fantasy. It's allowed to be fucked up."
"But after… after that… I know how awful it is for a man to say I know you want it. I shouldn't find it sexy."
"Why not?"
"Because it's wrong."
"For who?" I ask. "This is happening in your head. Who are you hurting?"
"I shouldn't want that." Hurt seeps into her voice.
"But you do." I move closer. "How does it help anyone to shame yourself?"
She stays soft, vulnerable. "It's not that easy."
"I know. But you could stop next time you catch yourself giving yourself shit."
"You sound like my therapist."
"Oh?" I ask. "Is therapy all dirty talk?"
"I don't tell her specific details." She laughs. "But she says the same thing. That everyone has a different reaction and would I judge someone else? So why am I judging myself?"
"She sounds smart."
"She is." She looks up at me. "Sometimes, I think about someone using me, playing with me while a friend watches, this tool to show power and status."
"Because you're that fucking sexy."
She nods.
"I like that one." I press my lips to her neck. "It sounds fucking hot."
"It's your turn."
"Any fantasy?" I ask.
"The dirtiest one you have." She shifts back into teasing. "I know you're a freak."
And I know that's a compliment. My lips curl into a smile. My blood rushes south as my thoughts turn to dirty places. I want to share this with her, but I don't want to scare her. I need to take it slow.
It might be too fucked up, but a promise is a promise. "It's an old one. And it's fucked up."
"Perfect."
I take her word she wants to hear it. "I started thinking about it after you asked for the lesson with the cucumber."
"Oh." She laughs. "Sorry. I made you promise."
"It was funny." My laugh breaks the tension in my chest. Yes, this is fucked up, but it's hilarious too, and I love that we can laugh together. "That night, I tested my lessons, made sure they checked out."
"Did they?"
"Oh, yeah. Then I started to think about other scenarios. What if you decided that wasn't enough help and you asked for something hands-on? Then what if you needed more? To learn how to give head? How to fuck?"
"That's not fucked up."
"What if you wanted to do it in front of the guy you were dating?" I ask.
"That's more fucked up. But not as much as mine."
"Is this a kink off?" I ask.
"No. I like yours." She smiles. "I don't know about real life, but I like the image of it."
"There's an overlap." Me, toying with her in front of someone else.
"I know."
"There's no one watching here," I say. "But there could be."
She nods.
"Or if that's too much, we could do it at home, with the mirror."
"It's not too much."
"Are you sure?"
She takes my hand and slides it between her legs.